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EMILY SPOTTED AJAY in a booth, his back to her. She set down the rack of glasses she was carrying. Wiping her hands on her apron, she approached. She stood behind him a moment, waiting for her to notice her.
His head lifted, turned slightly, as if he sensed her presence, knew she was there. But his attention quickly turned back to his phone. And she got the feeling that he knew she was there but was ignoring her.
Everybody had certain parts of themselves that they hated, or put more mildly, wished they could change. If someone didn't like her or was upset with her, she had to fix it. Logically, she understood that not everybody in the world was going to like her, and that it was natural for some people to simply not get along.
Intellectually, she knew this.
With regards to Ajay, she knew she should leave well enough alone.
She wished she could change this about herself, accept the certain awkwardness between them. But she couldn't.
Like a loose shoelace, she just had to tie it up.
Couldn't leave it just . . . dangling out there.
She peered over his shoulder at his phone. Montgomery County Sheriff 's web page. Heading: Recruitment Process. She sat across from him. "How's Jags?"
Ajay glanced up. "Good."
Well, he was talking to her. That was . . . something. "I'm glad."
His focus returned to his phone.
Emily glanced around the dining room. And back at him. "You thinking about becoming a police officer?"
He set his phone on the table. "I'm not sure I'll get in."
"Why?"
"I can skate past the college requirements thanks to time served in the military and my honorable discharge but I got priors."
"Convictions?"
He laughed. "Yes. Convictions."
Well, damn. Ajay had a bad boy reputation but she'd always assumed it was because of his gigolo ways, not because he was a deviant. She straightened. "What kind of convictions?"
He looked at her. And smiled.
She cleared her throat. "None of my business."
Picking up his phone, he turned his focus back to the screen.
"I started volunteering at the animal shelter," she said, "No greyhounds but there is this one dog. We call him Froggie. When he barks it sounds more like a croak."
He remained focused on his phone.
Grimacing, she began to scoot from the booth but hesitated. "For whatever its worth, I think you'd make a great police officer."
He slammed his phone to the table. "You give more mixed signals than a New York City boulevard."
"I wasn't aware I was giving any signals."
"Just last week you told me with a somewhat melodramatic flair to fuck off. Now you're sitting here making nice. What the hell do you want from me?"
She slid from the booth. "Absolutely nothing."
When Cam spotted Doug's car, he sprinted toward them and whipped the back door open. "Star said I fell asleep." More accusation than statement.
Doug looked to the back seat. "Take him back to bed. We'll come by in a few days to visit again."
"For fuck's sake, he's not even conscious."
"Son, he's fine."
"Don't start with the 'son' crap. You know he shouldn't have been out of bed." Cam scooped up Jags' limp body. "What the hell!"
With a hip jut, he closed the car door and hurried back to the house. He situated Jags in bed, top sheet pulled up and under his arms. He handed Jags a shake.
"What kind?"
"Cinnamon Maple." Cam tipped the glass allowing his brother a small sip.
"More."
Cam jerked it from his reach. "Let me hold the glass."
He waited for Jags to empty the glass by half. "You've had enough."
Jags slid down the headboard and curled into a ball.
Cam glanced to the foot of the bed where Star stood watching.
She gave him a weak smile. "He's getting better."
Cam's gaze drifted back to his brother. "Yup."
With most of his vision returned, Nate led his wife through Copper Creek until they found an empty table. He slid a chair out for her. "I'm going to talk to Ajay and find out about Jags."
She frowned. "Behave."
A grimace and a nod.
Nate slid in the booth across from Ajay.
"What?" Ajay spoke without turning his attention from his phone.
"How's Jags?"
"He's well enough to kick me out of Star's house."
"Glad to hear it." Nate began to slide from the booth, but hesitated. He really didn't want to start shit with Ajay. Wasn't the time. Not with Jags' health teetering.
But he couldn't help notice Ajay's head slightly lifting, his gaze on his sister. Emily was taking an order from two men wearing vests with reflector strips. Must be part of the road crew that was widening Interstate 75.
Nate slid back into the booth. "I'm really trying not to be a dick," he began, his tone calm. "But I really need you to stay away from my sister."
Ajay looked at Nate, his expression blank. "If I wanted to fuck her like a two dollar whore, I could and there's not a damn thing you could do about it."
"It's almost as if you want me to kill you." Nate's tone was matter-
of-fact.
"Fuck off."
Nate slid his checkbook and a pen from the breast pocket of his shirt. "How much?"
Ajay glowered. "You can't be serious."
"Five grand do it?"
"Make it fifteen."
Nate filled out the check and set it on the table. "Wait four days to cash it. I have some liquid investments I can cash in. The money will be there by Friday."
Ajay had only left Jags' side three times in the last five days. Each time he'd taken a lover.
A woman's breasts . . . her soft skin . . . the scent of a freshly fucked pussy. He had a genuine appreciation for making a woman orgasm, hearing her moan. He loved the whole package.
But his past three lovers might as well have been blow up dolls. He felt no appreciation for what they offered and he had no desire to make them scream.
But he fucked them anyway. Upside down, right side up, against a wall, in the shower and on the kitchen table. All that fucking and he still couldn't get his sweet Emms from his head.
He'd never admit it to anybody, but the last chick he fucked, Josie, instead of basking in the aftermath, holding her in his arms, he actually went into the bathroom, sat on the toilet and cried . . . like a fucking pussy.
Ajay caught Emily's eye as she came through the swinging double doors. He motioned her over.
Grimacing, she approached.
Ajay held up the check. "This is your brother's idea of a bribe."
"A bribe for what?"
"For me to stay away from you."
"I wasn't aware I was in danger of you coming near me." She shrugged. "I guess I won't be seeing much of you."
When he suddenly slid from the booth, Emms stepped back, seemingly startled. He ignored her discomfort and grabbed her by the hand. With her in tow, he started toward the exit. And she didn't fight him.
Once outside, he circled to the side of the brick building. The clammy, hot Texas air felt good. As usual, being outside helped the tension leave his body, tension he hadn't even realized was there.
He backed her against the brick building. With his forehead pressed against hers, he watched her chest rise and fall with each of her breaths.
Moments of awkward silence passed as he wondered what the fuck he was doing here. And why he brought her here with him.
Emms broke the silence. "I've missed you."
More mixed signals. Embracing a philosophy of 'fuck it', he framed her face.
And kissed her. Slow, teasing nips of her bottom lip. He tasted a cool tingle of spearmint on her tongue and refrained a moan.
Her hands wrapped around his waist and she held on to him, as if he might run. Why did she think he would run? He thought about it . . . and realized that he did want to run. 'Cept he didn't know why.
But how did she know he wanted to run? And why wasn't she running from him?
Because she was naive, unworldly and had no idea of the prick he really was.
Embracing another bout of 'fuck it, he slid his palms down her back and over small but firm ass. "If a woman like you could love a guy like me . . . then there's hope."
"Hope for what?"
"For me."
She cupped the side of his unshaven face. "Ajay."
"I was part of the Delta Force Unit, a tier one, counter-terrorism and special missions unit for the U.S. Army." He was nervously rambling, like a virgin on prom night. He sighed. "Not even my brother's know this about me."
Her brows lowered, either in confusion as to why he was telling her this or maybe why she should care.
"When I'm with you the spirits of those I've killed don't haunt me. I don't remember the look in their eyes when they realize I was sent there to kill them."
Her hands splayed on either side of his face. "Ajay."
He covered her hands with his. "I know why I did those things and I know I'd do them a hundred times over . . . to keep you safe, to keep others like you safe. I love this country and I would gladly die for it."
"Ajay."
"I would die for you. Because the world needs more people like you. And the world would do good," he let out a breath, ". . . with less people like me."
"Being a soldier doesn't make me you a bad person."
He lowered his head and quietly laughed. "No. It doesn't."
"I don't care about your past."
"What about my present?"
She swallowed. "I don't know what to say."
"I'd rather you didn't say anything." He wrapped a hand around the back of her head, cushioning the force of his kiss from slamming her head into the brick.
She whispered against his lips. "Are you really going to cash that check?"
"You bet. How 'bout you and I take a cruise to the Bahamas? We'll send Nate a postcard."
Maggie rounded the corner of the building, hands on her hips. "Ice needs filling. Isn't that your side work?"
Emms turned to leave, but he grabbed her wrist.
"Let her go," Maggie said.
Never, he thought.